Only Learned the Bad Things
by Faircrown
Summary: "She had kindness and affection. Her eyes, I remember, were jade green and her hair, ridiculous but exotic pastel pink that framed her baby fat, heart shaped face, and she was slender and very loud and very cute-looking." In which Sasuke remembers the past and contemplates his existence after everything is over.


**Only Learned the Bad Things**

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto.

**Originally Published in**:

01-05-13

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**Author's Note:**

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_The original story was slightly different and was beta-ed by two amazing people who helped with my English and with the story as a whole. Not sure if they'll remember this though since it was quite some time ago. Thank you so much. You guys are simply the best! A round of applause to _Mon Esprit Libre _and_ angelrider13.

_But after that I did some more editing and added more scenes so there'll probably be mistakes from that and I couldn't get it beta-ed! So I apologize for that._

_This fanfiction was inspired from Naruto manga chapter 661 before Kaguya came in and stole the role as the big bad guy. This is set in the near future when Sasuke had finally beaten Madara. I did not ignore Naruto and the rest of the Alliance but this is where my imagination kicks in and I imagined that the two Uchiha had taken their battle far away to settle old scores. _

_Okay, let's get to the story._

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**Only Learned the Bad Things**

Late in the afternoon, just before dusk, I finally turned off my Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan and dropped the bloody Kusanagi onto the ground. Susanoo had already dispersed from the lack of chakra a while ago. I didn't bother wiping the blood that was still dripping from the blade, but I was bothered by the fact that it was sitting too close to the body that I had just mutilated without much of a thought.

I felt disgusted with myself. It wasn't something that I feel in the long run. I took it back and pierced it into the ground near the head, like a marking tombstone. I looked at the body, shook his broken-to-splinters dead hand with my sin tainted one and smirked. It was more than a mockery. There was a formality to it, like a funeral without the sadness. He at least deserved that.

I found something to do with my hands, like dropping it down in the final moment of strength that I had. I looked away and tried not to think.

For a few moments I just stared at the sky; the blue, the orange and the pink slowly bleeding together into one uniform colour as I ignored the screaming pain in my body. Strong, no longer weak. Resolved, no longer crying. Avenged, no longer seeking vengeance. My eyes fell onto his face once more, or what's left of it, more like. Gone, no longer existing.

This isn't the first time I felt the loss. I've been through it again and again. The difference is, I acknowledged my first loss, ignored my second and dismissed the rest. But this one... this loss...

My blurry eyes strayed to his disfigured body –

I felt _lost_ with it.

I shook my head. All day long I'd been picturing Sakura's face, the way she smiled.

Somehow, Madara reminds me of… I mean, there was this girl I used to know. I took her to the movies once. My first date.

I looked at Madara's dead face for a long while. Then I sat down and leaned back.

It was after the Land of Snow mission. We were twelve, turning thirteen. She was in love, but I wasn't. It was suffocating, the attention she gave me. I always rejected and ignored her offers but for that one time, I agreed. I thought that if I relented for once she would finally cease her annoying proposals and questions, I thought that she'd stop being annoying. I thought wrong of course but it allowed me a different view.

When I think about her now, it's tempting to dismiss it as a mere memory, a road I've taken during my childhood. But I know for a fact that what she felt for me was as deep and stupid as love can ever get. It had all the shadings and complexities of burden and hurt, and maybe more, but it was different, yet fixed to the comparisons and chronologies and the ways people measure things. Because it was love, she convinced me that the heart knows what it wants, what it needs, and what it misses…

And I loved.

Just not her, though. Her idea, maybe, because it sounded so sweet and promising. Because it sounded like Mother. It sounded like Father. It sounded like family.

She had kindness and affection. Her eyes, I remember, were jade green and her hair, ridiculous but exotic pastel pink that framed her baby fat, heart shaped face, and she was slender and very loud and very cute-looking. I was envious of her. She had everything. She was passionate, lively and innocent. Her life was well made and she had a home. She could've been perfect if she had an ideal but at the time, her interest was only me.

Even then, at twelve years old, I wanted to live inside her body. I wanted to melt into her heart; I wanted to feel this love she claims to feel. Something like that. I know that, back then, I didn't want to be bothered with it. I had more important things running on my mind, like getting stronger and more powerful. To get closer to killing my brother.

I cringed.

I was wrong.

Anyway, after the mission was accomplished, Kakashi let us wander around the town to enjoy and relax for one day as a reward. Sakura asked if I wanted to see a movie with her. To her surprise and excitement, I said yes. Her eyes shined, her smile widened. I remembered looking away. It was distracting. The memory slipped from my mind but I guess we had managed to shake Naruto off. Her idea or mine, I can't recall.

That evening, we went to see the movie she chose. It wasn't a romance like I expected but it was an action based movie. I guess she had taken my preference into account, trying to impress me. Sakura and I waited in the line quietly to buy the tickets and then some popcorn and soda. I remember trying to pretend that it was nothing special because it wasn't. I knew she was nervous, I could practically hear her heart beating fast and loud but she was also silently beaming.

While waiting for the queue to shorten, I figured that I could plan my revenge but something kept disturbing my trail of thought. I had trouble thinking straight and it grated my nerves. For the first time ever she was decently quiet and I couldn't help glancing at her every now and then, making sure that she was alright. It wasn't something I was used to, a quiet Sakura.

I'd glance at her milky skin and those bright green eyes and how she would smile at the world with that pretty smile – always, it seemed – like she didn't want to disappoint herself. What she wore, I don't remember exactly what, because she had traded the usual travel and training clothes with something local. All I know was that it was red with bandages wrapping around her arms and calf.

It struck me now the reason why I couldn't think straight wasn't because of the disrupted avenger plans, but because of her excitement and innocence. It was really distracting and paralyzing. I knew they were there but I have never given them enough attention. Sakura was the object of my ignorance but that night, she looked so beautiful under the fluorescent light of the cinema.

As we bought the popcorn and drinks, I considered complimenting her but the words were stuck in my throat. Then I figured that I shouldn't bother. It would just lead her on and that would only be annoying.

"_I like your shirt by the way_," she told me, referring to the simple black shirt I was wearing that I'd bought earlier that day. I didn't say thanks, just grunted slightly. The old lady next to us, who was eavesdropping, turned and gave me a hard look. I hid my grimace, what was I supposed to do? Say thanks and see her transform into a big red tomato?

The irony? I like tomatoes.

We took our seats a while later in front of the big screen. I saw that Sakura was holding her hands to herself, afraid to latch on to me. By this time, she had already known what would annoy me but she didn't know that, at the time, I actually didn't mind her touch. In fact, I had grown used to it, just as I had grown used to her loud voice, her annoying smile and her bulldogged persistency.

Sakura may seemed to latch herself onto me like a parasite at times but her hold on me had always been nice even if a little smothering. It lessened over time because of my scowls but she misinterpreted my thought. I hated it when she did that, but not because it was irritating, but because it was addicting. I secretly liked it and would sometimes imagine that her hold was that of my mother's. She wasn't like my mother in the least but she does remind me of her in some ways. That was why I hated it. Because then I would hurt.

Nobody, it seemed, realizes that love hurts.

I was twelve years old. I had accustomed myself to being quiet. I had no gift whatsoever in small talks. Now and then, the old lady who had unfortunately sat in front of us glanced back and made little motions with her crinkly hands for me to do something. Sakura was just sitting there, smiling nervously at the old lady, embarrassed. She snuck glances at me with little subtlety, her little mouth opening and closing as she hesitates to say something. I stared resolutely at the blank screen, ignoring the both of them but it was a little while later that I began to grow uncomfortable from the hard stare the old lady was giving me. I opened my mouth and said something. I forgot what I said, but Sakura had smiled gratefully to me. I didn't have to say anything again because she was already encouraged to begin whispering conversations – one-sided conversations mostly – with me before the movie finally started. "_It's starting_," she whispered, looking at me with big excited green eyes.

I didn't know what started; the movie or my heart.

The thing about remembering something is that you wonder as you remember it. You wonder if that something really happened, or if it was just a figment of your own imagination, or if it was just a dream or a broken memory that you just sort of pieced together in order for it to make sense. Me, I see no sense.

Why was I so fixated on vengeance in the first place? Why was I so obsessed with Itachi, Konoha, and then Madara? Why couldn't I just stayed in Konoha and relished in the warmth Sakura offered? I suppose I could put up with the dobe's stupidity and Kakashi's perverted books but why hasn't that been enough? I knew the four of us have worked seamlessly together. And for a while, I thought I could choose that path instead…

But in the end… I've decided on revenge. That has always been my purpose of living. It was the reason why I went to Orochimaru, the reason why I killed Itachi, the reason why I became _this._

I couldn't let them to die for nothing. I couldn't let them to die in vain. They – even the ones that betrayed me – mattered a lot to me. And I needed to find a way to honour them, to avenge them and to fill the void that appeared after they ripped out the identities that made me. I wanted to kill, to rip throats out and to destroy.

But after Itachi… after everything, I wanted closure. It was tiring. Even with my capacity, they still treated me like a child. I wanted answers, I wanted the truth about the past so that finally, I can find my own true path. I was lost on the road of revenge for so long and I thought that it was time that I finally relinquish on my title as an avenger. But I knew of course, that I never would.

I am not pure, and I am not a child. But I hoped like one, and dreamed like one.

And I was easily deceived like one.

I've never admitted it but I guess it showed, in a very dark and distorted kind of way. I scared off a lot of people didn't I? Sakura, for one. I almost killed her. I would have, if Kakashi hadn't interfered. Or was it Naruto? I couldn't remember much. That was a while back. Huh, how is it that I could remember a twelve year old Sakura and me in a cinema but not that? No, I do remember. The terror in her eyes, how the clear and brilliance of the remaining green died when she realized that I was beyond saving. That she had no chance anymore. I was gone.

Again, I wondered. What if she did have a chance, and I'd given it to her. Where would I be now, if not in front of this dead man?

I wondered if I had a place called home. I wondered what it's like to live a life where my family wasn't slaughtered, and where I would have actually fallen in love, not with just my family, but with a girl. A girl like Sakura, perhaps. I wondered if I would've had friends and girlfriends and ended up as the head of the family with the girl that I'd ended up marrying. I wondered if I'd have children, Uchiha children, running around me in the Uchiha compound. I wondered if I'd teach them how to use the Sharingan. I wondered if I'd teach them the Uchiha pride. I wondered all sorts of things when I'm alone and have nothing to do, like now with a dead disfigured body in front of me. Then I'd remember why I killed the owner of that body, and then I'd start wondering again.

That's what remembering does. It makes you wonder. Sometimes, you'd wonder if the soul of all the people you've killed would come to you as you're sitting, worn and tired and dying, when you're at the root of a big tree, the only remaining tree that was standing on a bare, destroyed land where a forest once stood. You'd wonder, like I was, if the souls would say something to you instead of just standing there with a dark, translucent light and with a matching aura, looking at you with unreadable expressions.

"_You actually did it."_

"_Your ambitions are accomplished. What now?"_

"_Little brother, stop crying..."_

I hung my head. I felt nothing, and yet these tears still fall. I felt nothing, and yet my heart shrivels. Maybe it was because I felt nothing, my future saw nothing as well. I chuckled. So Kakashi was right. I have no future. I was finished with the present and had nothing to look for in the future.

**But that is not true. **

I have a different purpose now. I have a reason to change. For the Uchiha clan, who has been wronged and victimized and consumed thoroughly by the Curse of Hatred, I will change for them and I will lead them to a different path, a path that I am now taking.

I will become Hokage.

Even now, I can see her face in profile beside me, her cheeks softly lighted by the playing screen. The movie was hardcore action with samurai and ninja fighting each other for a piece of land. There were so many movements and so much screaming and blood – fake blood, of course – there was almost nothing to smile about. Just grimacing and sighing as you watch the main character escaping harm's way. I remember glancing over at Sakura, thinking that the movie might be a disappointment for her, but in the dimmed, grey light, she seemed to be smiling enjoyably at the screen. There were little crinkles at her eyes, her lips open and gently curving at the corners.

The audience was gasping and reacting to every single action presented, but I was bored. I'd done way more impressive stuff than what they were showing. Clearly, Sakura thought so too. She looked at me and blushed with sudden admiration. I could see the twin red wonderment on her cheeks, even in the dark, and I had stilled when she suddenly grabbed my arm from the sudden suspense the screen was permitting.

My mind reeled to the memory of the day before where I had laid on her lap because I was so tired from the fighting. She had cushioned my head and gently warmed me with her light touches. Although the grip she had my arm in wasn't that same type of touch, the memory of having her skin against mine jumpstarted something deep inside my system. I felt an odd, warm intrusion inside of me from it. I remember trying to act cool about it, even after the movie ended.

We walked through the cheerful, colourfully lighted town that night heading to the inn we were staying at. I ignored everything except for Sakura, but still, I don't remember what I focused on the most. Her voice, maybe. She was talking, so it must've been her high-pitched, child-like voice that I remembered. Things must've been said, but it's all gone now, except for a few last images.

I remember walking her to the door of her room. I remember the brass light with its fierce yellow glow, my hands in my pockets and the frame on the wall, the room's number, Naruto snoring loudly from behind the door of his own room and Sakura close beside me. She was in love, even if I wasn't, and now we were alone in front of the door to her room, mine just a door further up because I could not share with Naruto and his crude loud snorts and Kakashi with his incessant giggling from his night time reading. Finally, we looked at each other.

She said something while her face was burning hotly, probably expressing her gratitude and expression to do this more often. She was so shy compared to her usual, straight-out fangirling. Though it was disquieting, it was quite a good change.

"_Bye, Sasuke-kun."_

I nodded.

Kami, it hurts.

I anticipated direct death after the battle, but I didn't know that fate was cruel enough to let me live for another short moment. I was broken, quite literally. Every inch of my body was hit by Madara's attacks, my chakra was empty and my heart was failing. Susanoo had even sucked out the very little life I had left in me. I didn't feel that when I shook Madara's hand, but now that I've finally sat down, I'm beginning to feel the effect of the suicidal battle. My legs are killing me, my hands are useless, and my eyes are seeing black. I didn't want to remember the fight because the decision, every single decision that I've made in that fight and the many ones before that, ruined me.

He had used me till the very end, even as I was opposing him. Such magnifying power. To think, that I was still breathing – dying, but still breathing – is a mystery that makes me question about my strength and control. I knew I was strong, but throughout the whole fight, he had called me weak. He had pointed out all the flaws that I've tried to hide and the flaws I never knew I had.

I felt something shift inside of me, a deep thunderous rumble in my chest. It was anger. I felt coldness inside me; something dark and beyond reason. Something told me that it was evil. Evil had penetrated me and left no room for repentance to make up for the darkness I've cloaked myself in. I was capable of evil because I suffered. For years it had been a vow, a passion, an ambition. I remembered how there had to be consequences.

My sight fell on his form. Mutilated and beyond recognition. Positively dead. The sinister effect of my wrath, the wrath that was slowly ebbing away and replaced with a dull feeling. For a moment, I felt a sense of pure and total loss took over, and I cried. I let myself to cry. The warm, saltwater trailed down my bleeding face and dropped down into one of my hands. My useless, mangled hands. I couldn't even lift it up or move it so that the drop of tears wouldn't pool in my palm. I don't want to admit this, but I was afraid that the soon-to-be formed pool of tears in my palm would reflect my broken face, my broken, evil, sinful face. For a moment there, I felt like I've used up all the evil and was left with a bottomless pit of its foul remnants.

But with Madara's death, I had cleansed my soul. There should be none of those malevolent contents in me anymore. All that shall be left is an empty space for a new beginning. There will be scars and there will be tarnished memories, I was far too wounded to leave without a token. But I could start anew. Provided that I survive this. I killed Madara, sure but that doesn't mean that I was out of harm's way.

Death and I, we are close friends by now. We greet each other every day with knowing smirks. He knew that he would soon claim my life and I knew that I would continue to cheat him in every single game we play. But he is a good friend of mine. He does not mind it if I commit foul play, mainly because he knew that he would still have me permanently once I relented. Death was a patient entity after all.

I shuddered and trembled. My body was in shock. I wanted to cry out but I couldn't because my throat tightened and my lungs constricted. I choked in between my breaths and struggled to obtain air.

Then I blacked out.

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I'm still not... dead...

It was dark, the world only illuminated by the moonlight and fire from some torches. Something small was resting against my chest lightly as if I was the most fragile thing on earth. Considering my state, I might as well be. I was hurting all over. Every muscles and ligaments in my body were torn and all of my ribs were broken. I bled through every single wound and opening. A metallic taste flooded my mouth and I could feel crustiness in my eyes – the blood had dried and had glued my eyes shut. I realized that before I had fainted I was crying blood. Quite literally.

I felt a warm intrusion inside my body and a gentle voice was calling out for me. The feeling was soothing and I could feel the pain slowly ebbing away. My eyes were still closed but I was growing aware of my surroundings. I could hear whispers and murmurs in the distance but they were drowned by a deafening shouting. I could hear scuffling and sounds of protest as the loud voice was dragged away by some form of authority. Nothing can usually hold him back but he, just as much as I, was injured and weakened. He didn't want to leave so easily but he was already hauled far away. I inwardly smirked.

Dobe.

My body suddenly became tensed as the warmth slowly escaped my chest. I frowned. I wanted to protest, to tell them to keep it there but my throat was too parched and my lips were too dry. My arm lifted, and I was surprised. Not because I was able to actually move it but because my hand had grabbed a wrist. It was delicate and small but what do I care? It was moving away and had cruelly allowed the throbbing pain to return.

However, the warmth did not entirely leave. Instead, it travelled lower and settled into my stomach, where I had suffered amongst the roughest and deadliest of hits. The pain was not instantly gone but I could feel it lessen considerably. It seemed like they wanted to heal the most dangerous wound before completely relishing me from the pain. My grip on the wrist did not deter the soothing effect but I did hear the gentle voice persuading me to let it go. They said it firmly though, despite the sniffling and sobbing. So I reluctantly let go. I felt my body relaxed significantly and allowed them to proceed healing me without interruption. I waited.

The waiting had led me to remembering, unfortunately.

She had kindness and affection. Her eyes, I remember, were jade green and her hair, ridiculous but exotic pastel pink that framed her baby-fat, heart-shaped face, and she was slender and very loud and very cute-looking.

"_I – I love you with all my heart! If you were to stay here with me, there would be no regrets, because every day we'd do something fun, we'd be happy, I swear! I would do anything for you! So please – just stay with me!"_

Would you believe it if I said that I still remember that? It is not a known knowledge, not even to myself, but I suddenly do.

_"Take me with you! I'll help you, Sasuke-kun, I promise!"_

She was crying, quite beautifully, but I never saw it until I had knocked her out cold and laid her on the hard bench. I have to admit that after I left Konoha that night, I had never once thought about her meagre offers and promises. I was too consumed with my ambitions that I became amoral, apathetic and had accumulated some sort of sadistic tendencies. I saw my goal and the ones after that as obsessions. I transferred from one source of power to another like a moth to a flame. I was a ticking bomb, no matter how cold and indifferent I may seem at times. I wanted to rip hearts out, cut throats and stab bodies.

However, even with all those darkness I cloaked myself in, I had never meant to kill. Sometimes I do, for certain people (and there seems to be a lot of them). But for others, I merely want them out of the way. Sakura though, she was always in the way. She has a knack to appear out of nowhere. I festered hate towards her because of that even when I had expressed my gratitude for her, even when I know that my hate was half-hearted. It was the same with that orange-clad idiot and Kakashi. Always getting in my way.

Sakura, she was a child at that time. She had nothing useful for me. And even when she said that we'd be happy, that she would find ways to make our lives good, I knew that she wouldn't be able to keep me for long. And just like her, I was a child. I wasn't good at making decisions and I was single-minded, had always been.

I was obsessed with revenge just like she was obsessed with me. She said she loved me, but that was just her little heart telling her the wrong thing. Just like how my heart had told me that the only way to avenge my clan was to kill Itachi. But I wasn't wrong. By killing Itachi, it opened up the path to truth and it only hurt me more. I learnt that the village of my birth had been against me from the very beginning. I learnt that the person I hated only to love again after his death, had sacrificed everything from his body to his soul for the sake of that stupid village. I swore to destroy Konoha. I swore to kill every living things belonged to Konoha.

There is no relation between her and my goals, and she wasn't a vital part of my story. She belonged to almost nothing in my memories. She was insignificant, plain and little. Her existence in my life was a waste of time and effort by god. Or so I thought. I had always disregarded her, had always ignored her, and had always overlooked her. I thought about this before, I remember. She was the object of my ignorance but somehow, I couldn't help myself but think about her more than I should, even when my life and hers does not mix well and was created merely for the sake of some sick pitiful entertainment.

Sometimes, I feel like she existed just so that I could kill her. It is a dark thought, I know, but I did not mean it like that. She was like Naruto. Persistent, forcing and dedicated. A typical trait of every Konoha people it seems. What I have with Naruto I don't have with Sakura. That deadlast has always been my form of measurement, because out of all the others he was one of those people that could actually provide me with some challenge. He was my rival – is my rival. She, on the other hand, was someone I had to… was one of the people I… she was my… is…

My reasons changed. I met Itachi again, he came back from the dead through an unforbidden jutsu. He called me 'little brother' and gave me a new reason. I started to see things differently and began to learn his ways. I only learned the bad things. It was who I am but somehow, I was able to grasp his ideology and his belief. It was for the sake of him. I love him. It pained me and I was confused and disturbed but I love him. That was why I decided to come back. Sasuke Uchiha, traitor, wants to come back and become Hokage. Konoha will be cleansed of its tainted history, present and future just like I had been cleansed. Although I will remain the same mostly, cold and distant, but I will try until death had secured his cold, clammy fingers around my throat.

Konoha will change.

I will become Hokage.

My body feels lighter, better. There were still some pain left but I ignored it. The blood in my eyes were gently wiped away with a wet cloth and I was finally able to open them. I could see but I had to strain my eyes in order to see everything that was surrounded by the blackness of the night. My eyes still hurt from the excessive use of my developed bloodline limit but as usual, I disregarded it. I pushed myself up and allowed the pair of arms aid me into a sitting position. I turned my head to the only figure next to me and gave my quiet thanks. It was quiet; not something I was used to when with her. And something was off. The air felt different, she was as stiff as a plank – she was scared.

"Sakura," I rasped, my voice coarse and dry.

I expected her to lunge at me and engulf me in a desperate bear-like hug like the ones she always gave me back then. But she restrained herself. She didn't even say a word.

"You're quite," I stated.

She moved and made to stand up but I grabbed her wrist. She stilled and stared at me shocked so I gently tugged her down. I had questions to ask but I wanted some time to pass. I waited for her, allowed her to say something but her mouth remained closed. Her eyes however were still focused on me swimming with too many obvious emotions. She had learned all the right things. The powerful diamond on her forehead and her much better and uninjured condition became proof of that but she was still the pink-haired girl I knew. Sakura wasn't one who knew how to suppress her emotions, even when she was quiet and still. She was so easily read, it was painfully annoying.

"Talk," I selfishly demanded but my tone was careful. I do not know why.

"I thought you were going to die," she finally said in a fearful whisper. "I thought we were going to lose you… again."

I was never this close to death but I knew what she meant.

"I will stay."

"I don't understand," she said, slightly louder but her voice was strained. She is tired. We all are. "Why so sudden?"

I am not a typical person. I am usually devoid of uncertainties and doubts. If I get a fact, I hold on to it until I receive another fact and from there, I form a judgment for my next action. But when she asked that, a sliver of doubt rose into my mind and I try to push it back but to no avail. Was this a right choice? Surely I was better off away from the village rather than near it? Was this goal another foolish mistake in the making? I began to recalculate and reconsider but the image of Itachi swam before eyes as clear as daylight. He was smiling softly with a proud and loving expression. He had protected his little brother and village.

"Isn't that why you persistently chased me for?"

Sakura flinched, as if she had detected the abrupt shift of mood in me but my face was a mask of impassivity. There was no way she could've read me. But Sakura had always been strangely perceptive hasn't she? She used to be so clueless, so ignorant but she changed.

Through my thoroughly abused eyes I could see the stark difference in her when compared to her genin self. Her face had matured, in a way that it made me feel lost looking at something so different, but there were still that familiar kindness and affection hidden beneath the frown and hard expression. She looked rougher and more brutal and yet, so painfully feminine. There was no noticeable red on her except for the rosy shade of her hair and the blush in her cheeks. Because of the war, she was wearing the standard dark uniform and it strangely suits her but changed her as well. Her face had lost the default smiling expression. I could see that she often cries nowadays. She was always a crybaby but it had never caused her eyes to glisten like something broken with pain and hurt that could rival even mine.

"Of course, Sasuke-kun. I was just..."

"Hn. No one will stop me from coming back. Konoha is my goal now," I told her.

She suddenly laughed. It was soft and bitter. And then, as if mocking, she said, "You always need a goal don't you, Sasuke-kun?"

I instantly became angry so I shot her a warning glare but then she suddenly covered my eyes with both of her palms. I wanted to push her away but stopped when I felt her healing chakra slowly trickled in. For someone who had just came out of a war, she sure had a lot of chakra left. Well, more than anyone that was on the ruined battlefield at least. I detected an almost empty barrel of chakra inside her system and knew that she would have to stop soon. She was already scraping it empty. A while later, as predicted, she stopped and slid her palms down to cup my face.

"Not everything in life needs to be a goal, Sasuke-kun," she said sadly.

My eyes (the pain was gone and it was easy to see everything) met hers. Everything was just as I remember it, differences included but I was still trying to adjust to that rhombus mark resting in the middle of her forehead. She looked like Tsunade. Fought like her as well. I barely knew the offensively robust woman but I heard she has quite the temper and it was quite obvious that Sakura had inherited that too. I question her capabilities but I knew she was far from the girl I used to know. She was different and yet still the same.

"What do you know," I replied coldly and pushed her hands away but she only grabbed my hands and held it in hers. I didn't look at it but I could feel their smallness. She wasn't able to fully wrap it around my hand whereas I could probably engulf hers whole in mine. It was also covered in callouses, different from the soft silky hands from some years ago.

"Please," she begged, looking thoroughly upset, "Don't underestimate me, Sasuke-kun. Don't ever think that I'm any lesser than you or Naruto or anybody! I may not be as strong as you or Naruto or sensei but I'm definitely stronger than I was before."

For a second, she looked embarrassed to brag about her achievements but she resolved to clue me in in the important part of her life that I missed.

"I've never had goals. Well, nothing like yours, but I think I would know what it is like," she told me, looking deeply into my eyes. "I was always behind you and Naruto."

I waited for her to make sense.

"You're probably not interested, but I was always weak. And everyone kept protecting me, kept doing things for me. But you already know that right? It took me a lot of time but I finally realized that it was time for me to finally bring forth my potential. I want to protect others for a change, I want others to watch my back for once. And I… I want to save you myself, Sasuke-kun."

Her gaze hardened and her hands tightened around mine, the strength of a hundred men seemed to be contained in her hold and I tried not to wince.

"I trained so hard and every time I think about you I push myself to the limit but at the end of the day, it's not enough. It's never enough! You keep running away, keep refusing our help and then – then you tried to kill us!" Her eyes were burning into mine when she cried, "You tried to kill _me_!"

"Tell me Sasuke-kun… tell me if my getting stronger to save you is not a goal? Tell me, if watching you continuously _losing yourself _is not enough of a drive for me and Naruto to go keep running and chasing after you even when it'll keep getting us killed!"

I just stared at her. Her face was wet again. I couldn't understand how easily she could shed tears. The only times that I did had been extremely painful and I wonder if it was the same for her. How many times has she been hurt? Was she hurt to the point of breaking apart when she cried? Was she hurting now? But now she looked angrier than anything. Deranged, even.

"And then – and then, all this," she flung one of her arm towards the destroyed land, "–happened and all of a sudden my strength, my chakra, my _life –_ all of it! – is for this war and it's not just about you anymore but about everyone! I mean sure you came back, hooray, but everything was already almost gone!"

She was almost screaming, held back only from her fatigue and after that pause to inhale air after her angry rant, she began to slow down.

"It's not about me being weak or left behind or – or getting killed… it's… it's about everyone I love... it's about you."

All of the sudden, she was smiling, and I recognize that smile from three years ago, back when I was a child and was briefly entranced by her innocence. It was that very same smile and it captured me yet again.

"Hn."

"It may not mean anything to you but it does to me. I didn't come this far to lose you. It's not a goal. It's just what I want to do, what I need to… save and protect."

"You healed the dobe," I suddenly said. I saw her crying while pumping chakra desperately into Naruto when I led Madara to this place. And before that, I saw her summon – the slugs – healing the entire battlefield of those injured. The sight of her forcing life into the ones death had claimed was intriguing. All this time I've been focusing on killing, she had been training in the arts of healing. It was simply ironic.

"He's one of my important people, Sasuke-kun," she admittedly quietly. "Without him, none of us would be here, alive."

Then she smiled and said, "And you helped too. You saved us all too, Sasuke-kun."

I just stared at her, watching the way her eyes sparkled from victory, happiness and something hopeful… it was like she was wishing that I could see that this was my redemption.

"You're annoying, Sakura." I told her. It was my defence mechanism kicking in.

I was surprised when she simply shrugged, like she didn't care that I was trying to hurt her out of spite – when in truth, I felt ashamed and uncomfortable but astronomically glad from her words.

"Call me whatever, Sasuke-kun. I'm sorry I can't change what I am."

What she is… is admirable. I smirked inwardly, and turn my head to gaze into the well-lighted area just ahead of us where tents were set up to place resting men from the war.

We were both quiet for a while. Her hands were still holding mine but I was too tired to even care. My body was still in pain and it hurts a little to breathe. She must've noticed this so she pulled one of her hand and put it on my chest but I grabbed her wrist, stopping her. She had no more to spend and it was useless to hurt herself for something that I could handle well on my own. The pain was discomforting but I was fine. She, on the other hand, clearly wasn't. Her breathing was heavy and her eyes were slowly shutting close. She was fighting for consciousness as it is and it was foolish to fight it for long. She needed rest.

"Sleep, Sakura."

She shook her head and said, "I can't…"

She turned her head and scanned the heavily fatigued and injured troops that were a distance away from us. They had set up medic tents there and it was crowded. Sakura was probably needed there but she couldn't contribute much anyway with her current condition. She was far too exhausted. She was suffering from chakra exhaustion. We both were.

"Don't be annoying," I told her.

"No, I can't be selfish," she said, her voice a whisper.

"Sleep."

She was silent, calculating how many minutes she could spend resting before getting back up on her feet. When she had decided, she finally and reluctantly leaned to the lone broken tree that I was resting my back on. She shifted to be comfortable next to me and when she found a position that she liked, she closed her eyes and finally drifted off into momentary unconsciousness. I stared at her for a while. It was so different but I expected that. Nothing much changed. She still has kindness and affection. Her eyes, I saw, were jade green and her hair, ridiculous but a fitting pink that framed her delicate, heart-shaped face, and she was slender, strong and beautiful. I looked down and realized that she hadn't let go of my hand.

I let it.

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**Author's Note:**

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_Thank you for reading. Review and tell me what you think. Please do not come and attack with pitchforks and flaming sticks. However, I will have my spoon of nutella at the ready, just in case._

_Have a nice day lovelies!_


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